A Matter of Time
by Ardeth Silvereni
Summary: A old short story focusing on the aftermath of Soul Reaver 2. It assumes that Hash'ak'gik and the Elder God are the same entity, so it is inconsistant with LoK: Defiance.


The Legacy of Kain series and all related characters belong to Eidos Interactive and Crystal Dynamics.

**A Matter of Time**  
- by Ardeth Silvereni

The light was fading outside. The stained glass of the Stronghold's corridor glowed gently from the last of the waning sunlight. It had been a long day, a cornerstone of history, although few would understand the magnitude of the day's events. Even less would foresee the consequences.

The hooded man walked slowly down the length of the passage. Purposely, he allowed his footsteps to echo in the silent hall, subtly announcing his approach to the soldier crouched ahead. The soldier, one of Malek's Sarafan, had his head in his hands, and was leaning against the wall beside an open doorway.

The hooded man stopped in front of the soldier, looking down at him. Slowly the Sarafan raised his glance, eyes red and tear-filled. His woman, a minor sorceress, had perished delivering their child. Worse still, the child was 'imperfect'. The midwives did not expect it to live long.

"Why, my Lord?" The soldier choked. It was a predictable question considering the circumstances. A regular Sarafan warrior was incapable of comprehending the scope of destiny - the reason and rhyme for the misery he now felt. The hooded man was more enlightened, but it was not his intention to offer comfort; he would leave that to the soldier's family and comrades. Another matter commanded his attention. He turned and walked briskly through the maternity area's doorway without speaking a word.

He identified a crib standing alone in the north corner, all but ignored by the women attending to the other newborns. The women whispered as he passed to reach it, confused by his presence. He seemed deaf to them, and not one dared to question him directly. The hooded man gazed at the infant thoughtfully before lifting her out, cradling her carefully. The midwives were wrong. This child would have a long life, far longer than any normal mortal could hope for.

The child was not strictly unique. Another five existed that would hold his interest; today's events had ensured that. However, this one was particularly special, more significant than the others, and thus required his immediate attention. It pleased him that she had been born here, although his sphere of influence encompassed most of the land.

This child was the key to it all. The one who would initiate Nosgoth's glorious and inevitable renaissance...

The hooded man smiled. In the past he had often given the same knowing smile to the (now deceased) Inquisitor, Raziel. The Sarafan had been too ignorant - or perhaps arrogant - to guess what was hidden behind the façade of almost fatherly encouragement. He could not fathom the ultimate role that fate had prepared for him, much to the man's hidden delight. Even now it waited, stayed only temporarily by Kain's intervention.

Moebius could not suppress a chuckle as the child wrapped its tiny fingers around his thumb. Destiny was inescapable for all. Even this little one would live and die, but her influence would be great. Kain's presence in this era had been an attempt to undo the greatest achievement of her life; the achievement that she would make with Moebius to guide her. She would make it possible for the Pillars to fall. She would allow Hash'ak'gik - her God and his - to enter Nosgoth, and begin their descent into decay and collapse.

Her father had not named her, but it was no matter. Her identity was forever etched in the cycle of history.

"Little Azimuth," the Time Streamer crooned. "Matriarch of Avernus..."

* * *

Moebius watched, nearly concealed in the shadows, as Mortanius sentenced the failed Paladin. The Time Streamer's face was an expressionless mask throughout the proceedings. He knew that Malek had borne the blame alone, in the vain hope that Mortanius's justice would be swift. Malek had not even _dreamed_ of mentioning Moebius's part in the terrible events that occurred. He was too wary of the Time Streamer, and it would not have absolved him of his guilt to do so. A true warrior did not seek to shift blame onto others. He believed he deserved to die.

Had Malek been a simple human, Mortanius might have obliged - but the Necromancer knew the truth. He could not afford to sacrifice another guardian to the void at such a perilous time. Even unaware of his role, Malek's psyche was fully developed, and he could quickly learn to consciously control the forces of Conflict. The same would not be true of an infant. The Circle needed to be strengthened as quickly as possible. Also, it still needed a protector.

Malek examined his new form cautiously, then looked back at his suspended and stripped skeleton. After a few moments, the Paladin appeared to regain his composure. The armour clattered noisily as he knelt, bowing deeply to Mortanius, who still stood high upon the rock edifice.

"You are dismissed," the Necromancer commanded, signalling for Malek to rise. Malek complied, bowing his helmet in acknowledgement to Moebius as he departed.

Moebius imagined Malek might be confused by the nature of his punishment, perhaps more than he was horrified by it. It was understandable. Malek did not know the full extent of his birthright, he simply thought he was a gifted warrior who had a talent for the magical arts.

"He will have to be told."

Moebius turned to see Mortanius descending the stairway from the clifftop.

"I agree," the Time Streamer replied slowly. "But will it be enough? The Circle is weak, Mortanius."

"It is how it has always been done." The Necromancer crossed the rune-covered floor silently to face his fellow guardian. He knew what was being implied. "Introducing children to the full extent of their gifts could do us more harm than good."

"Perhaps... " Moebius spread his arms in a grand encompassing gesture, sweeping through the air with his staff. "Yet in the meantime, humanity suffers while our Circle is broken?"

"It is not _broken_, as you well know." Mortanius retorted sharply, unimpressed by Moebius's theatricals. "Fragmented, yes, but even the existence of these children is sufficient to maintain Nosgoth's stability. And how can they develop compassion and humility if they have never experienced a normal human life and wants?"

Mortanius pointed a bony finger at the Time Streamer. "We are not above humanity, Moebius. We are _servants_ of humanity. A guardian who learns to serve only themselves has the potential to destroy all. The young are inherently prone to such selfishness. We will not risk it."

Moebius brought his staff to rest. He stroked the glowing orb contemplatively. "Very well," he conceded. Inwardly he was amused by Mortanius's defensive outburst. He knew the Necromancer was unsettled. It was no secret that he distrusted Moebius, now perhaps more than ever. How unfortunate that they had to get along for the good of Nosgoth...

The Time Streamer let his hand drop, pulled his hood over his bare head and turned away, preparing to leave. "If you'll excuse me," he said. He began to walk briskly towards the room's exit.

"What of our other concern," Mortanius asked, suddenly changing the subject. "This demon responsible for the slaughter of the Inquisitors? Have you learned more of its origins?"

Moebius stiffened slightly. "The matter is in hand. When the time is right, I will deal with it accordingly." He paused briefly before departing the room for good.

"You may rest assured of that..."

Mortanius did not comment, whatever he thought of that confident remark. Behind him, Moebius felt a brief flare of energy, which quickly receded, taking the Necromancer's essence with it. Mortanius had returned to his own pursuits, whatever they might be, and it was time for Moebius to do likewise. He chose to follow human convention for a change, and made the long journey back up to the Cathedral's ground floor on foot. It would give him time to think, and reflect on his victory.

Kain understood the nature of time better than Raziel did. He knew history began, then ended, only to begin again, exactly as before. History was always the same in every cycle, and therefore irredeemable. As he would say to Raziel, in five hundred years time, "You and I meet here because we are _compelled_ to - we have _always_ met here."

Those who thought the Time Streamer could look into the future were mistaken. However, he could predict the future of this cycle of history by looking back to what happened in the last. As each cycle was identical, this amounted to pretty much the same thing, but with one subtle difference. Every time the Soul Reaver was used to change history in the present cycle, Moebius effectively made himself blind. He could learn nothing by looking back. That was an enormous risk.

The manipulation of time was a delicate operation, and took more patience than anyone realized. It had taken three complete cycles of history for Moebius to be able to see the altered future beyond Raziel's escape from the Reaver. Of course, Kain and Raziel had no perception of this; it was disguised by their continued use of time travel. The Chronoplast and its secondary devices caused the occupant to temporarily exist _outside_ of time, and Moebius expertly controlled their return back into the continuum.

The future that Moebius could see now was most agreeable. The Hylden's needs would be satisfied, and his God would be pleased. Kain's poisonous influence would be removed from Nosgoth, and Raziel's destiny to inhabit the Reaver would be fulfilled. Moebius had only to ensure that no further alterations to history took place - a simple task, considering he now possessed the Reaver. He had picked it up from the chapter house before Raziel's human body was removed. Strangely, Kain had chosen to leave without taking the blade with him - but that degenerate's motivations were no longer important. The next time Raziel's wraith incarnation encountered the vampiric sword, Kain would not be there to save him.

Moebius had won the game, despite Kain's best efforts.

The Time Streamer's prize might have seemed trivial to another individual - one who did not appreciate its scope. He had created a cycle of history that suited him, and that cycle would be repeated eternally - time after time after time. He could enjoy his many lifetimes, knowing that his carefully choreographed future would always come to pass. He was at peace.

With a thin smile of satisfaction, Moebius exited the darkened underground walkways and emerged into the soft light of the Cathedral's interior. He passed through the main hall of worship. There, a wealthy Avernus merchant and his wife were initiating their child into their weak faith with the usual rituals. Moebius's smile became a smirk. He had a baptism of his own to attend, at another altar.


End file.
